From the window I could see snow piled up on the tarmac in Minneapolis. It was cold, but not quite as frigid as when we had left New England two weeks earlier.
Our seats were just in front of the door used for boarding. I therefore had a front-row seat for viewing the woman driving the jetway from the terminal to our plane. At one point she had to stop it to realign it so that its opening was parallel to the fuselage. She then smoothly glided it in, and the disembarking commenced. I had never before had the opportunity to view this process at close range.
For once Sue was not the last one off of the plane; in fact, she was one of the first. I had to wait for the gentleman next to me to gather together his carry-ons before I could extract my backpack from the overhead compartment.
The jetway corridor was shockingly cold, but the terminal was quite comfortable. When I met up with Sue in the gate area, I wished her a happy anniversary. Her reply, as expected, was “Is it today?”
It was a little after 6 o'clock Central Time when we arrived. Our gate was a short distance from one of the terminal's commercial areas. Emanating from somewhere was a strong smell of bacon and sausage cooking. Perhaps we should have followed our noses, but I had spent a good deal of time in this airport a few years back, and I thought that we could probably find a suitable restaurant in the C Concourse, which was the location of the gate for our flight to Hartford.
It would have been a really long walk[1] for two red-eyed senior citizens, but Sue cleverly flagged down a lady driving a cart. She gladly agreed to drive us to our gate. When we arrived there, we became aware that the choices for breakfast in the little food court nearby were not at all appetizing. I volunteered to reconnoiter the vicinity to find something better. I took advantage of the moving sidewalk to speedily return to gate C12, where I discovered that the Twins Grill and Bar had just opened.
Along the way I saw a big sign that advertised that MSP had been voted the best airport in North America for the second year in a row. I also found an area away from any gates that had comfortable seats, side tables, and electricity. It would be a good place to hang out until it was time to board our plane.
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By the time that I returned to gate C22, Sue had already bribed the same cart driver to transport us to the Twins Grill and Bar, which now had a few patrons. We both ordered substantial breakfasts. Mine was the “Double Play,” which was two eggs, sausage, fried diced potatoes, and two pancakes. I liked everything except the potatoes. The prices did not seem too bad either, but perhaps our two weeks in Hawaii had inured us to high restaurant prices.
When we told the waitress that the meals had been tasty, she informed us that we were lucky. She explained that the other cook was not nearly as talented.
We then spent a couple of hours in the comfortable chairs that I had spotted earlier. I started and eventually abandoned a couple of online Sudokus in which I had made mistakes. Meanwhile Sue nodded on and off. In her waking moments she told me how uncomfortable she had felt on the last plane trip next to the manspreader.
We returned to our gate for boarding. The gate had been changed to C26, which had far too few seats to accommodate the mass of people who longed to escape the chill of Minnesota for the tropical warmth of New England in December. We finally took our seats the plane for the last leg of the trip at a little after 10 o'clock.
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The flight was smooth. It was also aided by a tailwind that allowed us to touch down at Bradley International a few minutes early. Sue texted Ann Hudson, who had agreed to pick us up. By the time that we got our luggage together and went outside, she and her Lexus were waiting for us.
Ann drove us to Enfield by way of Suffield. It did not occur to us to recommend that we take Route 20 and I-91, which was about five minutes faster on the average.
During the drive she described the frustrations that she and her husband Randy had felt on their sojourn to the Big Island after the tournament. They were interested in the agricultural[2] developments there, but they found it very difficult to learn anything. They were also very surprised by the economic conditions in Hilo, which had evidently not participated in the boom experienced in much of the state. Ann and Randy actually played bridge at clubs two days in a row. Sue had mentioned this possibility for us, but I would not consider wasting valuable vacation time at a bridge club.
When we got to the Route 190 bridge, we were shocked to find that the highway was closed to eastbound traffic. Sue advised Ann to drive up to Springfield to cross the Connecticut River. It probably would have been easier to have backtracked to Route 140. At any rate, Ann successfully brought us home, but she spent a much longer time doing it than she had planned on. We definitely owe her for being such a good sport.
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The trip would not be over until two final things were accomplished. In the first place, we must make sure that our two cats, Bob and Giacomo, were still fit and healthy. This took a while, because they both scampered down the stairs into the basement at our arrival. They timed their appearances for when we least expected them.
The second traditional task was to purchase a bucket of fried chicken from the Colonel to remove the taint of healthy eating from our digestive systems. Sue graciously volunteered to undertake this responsibility.
The main purpose of this trip was to eliminate or at least forestall the feelings of burnout and frustration that I had been experiencing in November. The wealth of activities and interchanges that characterized our two weeks in Hawai'i were definitely refreshing. However, the trip also brought new frustrations. The bridge was enjoyable, but the results did not meet my expectations.
The time in Maui was also a little frustrating. We did not get to partake in two of the three activities that I originally planned on enjoying. The journey to Hana was certainly much less than optimal, too. The rain was unavoidable, but starting from Kahului instead of Kapalua would have removed some of the time pressure. More than that, the trip brought home the fact that we were both slowing down. I did not like that a bit.
My final word is a piece of advice about going to paradise. Do a lot of research. I spent several hours reading about the various activities, but I missed several things that cost us a good deal of money and caused us some angst as well.
I absolutely loved Hawai'i the first time that we went there in 1997, but I am not sure that I want to return. I am pretty certain that I have no further use for Waikiki.
Basta! We enjoyed two weeks of warmth, sunshine, good company, and stunningly beautiful vistas in late November and December. We survived seven airline flights and two weeks among strangers without the slightest hint of illness or injury. We made every connection without a hitch.
And we got to see and hear two of the Rocky Fellers perform! I even shook hands with Little Albert.
Life was good.